


Mine!

by wyntirrose



Series: Grifters and Marks [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/wyntirrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Normally it’s Swindle who’s the possessive one, but every once in a while, Smokescreen’s jealousy rears its ugly head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine!

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [bittereloquence](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bittereloquence/pseuds/bittereloquence) for betaing.
> 
> This is based off of the prompt Smokescreen/Swindle - Possession is nine-tenths of the law.

Another con complete left Swindle with nothing more to do other than count his well-earned credits.

“Fifty thousand this time,” he said as he recounted the take. “Hrm … we may need to come up with something small before the next big planned job, Ace. I’d rather not avoid the central worlds and the landing taxes are getting ridiculously high. Again.”

Smokescreen made a noncommittal sound from the other side of the living area.

“It’s incredible just how sticky those bureaucratic fingers are getting.”

There was yet another noncommittal grunt from his partner.

Swindle put aside the credits and looked up at Smokescreen. “All right, I’ll bite. What’ve I done that’s slagged you off?”

“Nothing,” Smokescreen replied, never looking up from his data pad.

“Oh come on, Smokey! Don’t tell me that you’re still annoyed that I wrote on your doors?” Swindle asked, coming up to stand behind his partner, hands tracing out the lines of the taller mech’s back.

“I _wasn’t_ angry about that,” Smokescreen replied tersely as he pulled away. It was clear in his tone that, while he hadn’t been angry about the breach, now that he had been reminded, the issue was back in his mind.

“Okay, so then what are you angry about?” Swindle asked calmly, continuing to run his hands over Smokescreen’s back in soothing patterns. “And don’t give me the 'If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you' song. I’d prefer it if we can solve this without the usual mind games.”

Swindle’s tone had been light and his touch playful, but as he felt Smokescreen tense under his hands, he knew he had screwed up.

Smokescreen pulled away and spun on his partner.

“Where do you get off, Swindle?” he demanded. “Where do you get off playing innocent when you know full well what you did?”

Swindle sighed and leaned back against the table. If their history was anything to go by, this was going to be a long argument

“If I knew what I've done I wouldn’t be playing dumb now would I? You and I both know better than that,” he said calmly. It was rare for Smokescreen to go off randomly like this, but experience had taught Swindle that the best way to handle things was calmly and logically. No matter how hard it was not to snap back with sharp words. “Now can we please just discuss this rationally? I want to know what I did so that I can apologize properly.” This last was added with a suggestive leer.

“Fine. You want me to spell it out for you?” Smokescreen grit out. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t share. You’re needy and possessive to the point that you wrote that I belong to you in **permanent** ink on my back and doors. And then after that you have the unmitigated gall to step out on me!”

Swindle had been nodding in careful agreement as his partner spoke until he got to the accusation of cheating.

“Wait, what? When did I cheat on you?” he asked. There was a slight frisson of worry forming in the back of his processor. He had a terrible feeling that he knew precisely where Smokescreen was going with this.

“I am not an idiot, Swindle,” Smokescreen growled, closing in on his partner. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t see you with that hover-flyer?”

“Well, I just figured that you were busy elsewhere and I could start up a little side project I had planned,” the smaller mech replied. The moment the words left his mouth he knew he had made a mistake.

Swindle knew that Smokescreen was fast, but he had forgotten just how fast the bulky mech could be. The tan mech suddenly found himself pinned between the table and his enraged lover.

“I. Don’t. _SHARE_!” Smokescreen hissed.

His lips were on Swindle’s in a crushing, brutal, claiming kiss, and it was all the smaller mech could do to keep up with the surprisingly possessive assault. Blue hands moved over the tan mech’s frame, laying total claim as they mapped out every angle and scratched possession into Swindle’s finish. The smaller mech wasn’t about to take this passively and he pressed up against Smokescreen, grinding their bodies together in a lust-filled dance.

This was the Smokescreen he wanted. Not the passive, gentle, cuddling partner he’d been lately. Swindle wanted things fast and hard, and if it took a little false jealousy to bring the fire back to their relationship, then so be it. There was no need for Swindle to reveal that Vortex was a potential business partner and nothing more; no need to tip his hand and tell Smokescreen about the offer from Onslaught’s Combaticons. At least not yet.

Swindle gasped and arched up as Smokescreen’s hand came down hard over his port cover, a demanding, needy sound escaping around kisses as the larger mech demanded a more intimate connection.

Ports were opened and cables were swapped in an almost mindless rush of need sending their engines and cooling systems to roaring in the relatively small space of the living area.

“ _You’re mine, Swindle. All mine and only mine_ ,” Smokescreen growled out over the connection as he ran through his partner’s systems, seeking to drive the smaller mech to overload. 

But there was a need there as well, a fear that Swindle knew far too well. Normally it was Swindle himself who needed the reassurance that nothing would change and they wouldn’t lose each other. With an almost gentle hand he mentally reached out and stroked Smokescreen’s core.

“ _All yours_ ,” he said with surprising tenderness. “ _I’m not going anywhere or doing anyone but you. I know better than to risk a good thing_.”

Overload hit them both hard and fast, leaving them both only enough energy to collapse inelegantly onto a nearby couch.

“Not going anywhere, Ace,” Swindle murmured sluggishly as Smokscreen nuzzled possessively into his side.

\---

Swindle woke with a groan, stretching out kinked cables and servos as he did. He was alone on the couch, but he could hear Smokescreen humming to himself in the cockpit. It was nice to hear his partner happy and relaxed. A good change from the tense almost distant attitude he’d taken lately.

The arms dealer stood and was about to saunter over to the energon dispenser when he caught his reflection in a nearby surface. His large optics widened in shock as he looked at himself in the mirror. There, written in permanent ink across his windshield in perfect High Cybertronian were the words: “The attached mech is property of Smokescreen”.


End file.
